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Authors: Linda Howard

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BOOK: Against the Rules
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“How did things go?” Lorna asked as Cathryn moved slowly into the kitchen, groaning with every step.

“Sable had twins, but one died just a few minutes ago. But Andalusia's foal is a big colt, as red as fire, so that should please Rule. He likes red horses.”

“Speaking of Rule...” said Lorna meaningfully.

Cathryn flinched. “Oh, Lord. Lorna, I can't. Not just yet. I'm dead on my feet and he'll make mincemeat out of me.”

“Well, I'll try to explain.” But Lorna looked doubtful, and Cathryn almost gave in. If her body hadn't been throbbing with weariness she might have surrendered to the urge to see him, but she was just too tired to face him now.

“Tell him about the foals,” she directed, yawning. “And tell him that I've gone straight to bed for a few hours of sleep, and I'll see him when I get up.”

“He won't like that. He wants to see you
now.

Suddenly Cathryn chuckled. “Tell you what. Tell him that I've forgiven him. That'll make him so mad that if you're lucky he won't even speak.”

“But you won't see him now?”

“No, not now. I'm really too tired.”

Later, lying drowsily in her bed, she wished that she had gone to talk to him. She could have told him about the foals and he would have understood if she had cried a little on his shoulder. She was teaching him a lesson, but she wished that she didn't have to learn it with him. She wanted to be with him, to touch him and take care of him. It was a good thing that she had promised to see him later, because a day without being with him was almost more than she could bear.

Lorna woke her that afternoon to take a phone call. Groggily she staggered to the phone. “Hi,” said Glenn Lacey cheerfully. “I just wanted to remind you of our date tonight. Guess where we're going.”

Cathryn was dumbfounded. She had forgotten all about having made a date with Glenn for that night. “Where?” she asked weakly.

“I've got tickets to the Astros' game in Houston tonight. I'll pick you up at four and we'll fly in to the city for an early dinner before the game. How does that sound?”

“That sounds great,” Cathryn gulped, thinking bleakly of the man lying upstairs.

CHAPTER 10

If it hadn't been for Rule, Cathryn would have had fun. On the surface she was happy, smiling and talking, but underneath she was miserable. It was as if he were on the date with her, invisible to everyone but her. If she laughed at something, she thought of Rule lying in bed waiting for her to come to him because he was unable to get up and go to her, and she felt guilty for laughing. She felt guilty anyway, because Glenn was an amusing, undemanding companion and she just couldn't give him her complete attention.

Once they were at the ball game she was able to concentrate on what was happening and push thoughts of Rule aside. She had never been a great baseball fan, but she liked watching the crowd. There were people of every shape, size and description wearing every type of outfit imaginable. One couple, obviously in a mellow mood, paid no attention at all to the ball game and proceeded to conduct a romance in the midst of thousands of witnesses. A man sitting just below them, wearing only sneakers, cutoffs, and a tee shirt tied around his head, cheered loudly and equally for both teams. Glenn was of the opinion that he didn't know which team was which.

But even crowd watching had its painful moments. A man with thick dark hair caught her eye and her breath squeezed to a halt for a painful moment. What was Rule doing now? Had he eaten anything? Was he in pain?

She had upset him, and the doctor had told her to keep him quiet. What if he tried to get up by himself and fell?

She was aware, as if of a deep chill in her bones, that if he hadn't been furious before, he would be now. Yet she couldn't have backed out of the date with Glenn at the last minute; Glenn was too nice to be treated so shabbily. Perhaps he would have understood and been a good sport about it, but Cathryn felt that it would have been tacky to stand him up after he had already gotten the tickets to the ball game.

Sudden, bitter tears burned her eyes and she had to turn her head away from Glenn, pretending to look over the crowd. She ached to be home, just to be under the same roof with Rule, so she could look in on him and make certain he was all right, even if he were angry enough to eat nails. Love! Who ever said that love made the world go round? Love was a killing pain, an addiction that had to be fed; yet even in her pain she knew that she wouldn't have it any other way. Rule was a part of her, so much so that she would be only half-alive without him. Hadn't she already learned that?

She loved Rule and she loved the ranch, but between them they were driving her crazy. She didn't know which was more demanding, and the way she felt about both only complicated matters.

Glancing at Glenn, she realized that she couldn't imagine Rule sitting hunched over in a stadium, absently chewing on an already mangled hot dog and drinking warm, watery beer. She had never seen Rule relaxing at anything. He pushed himself until he was so tired that he had to sleep, then began the cycle again the next morning. He read a great deal, but she couldn't say that it was recreational reading. He read thick technical books on breeding and genetics; he studied lineages, kept abreast of new medicines and veterinary practices. His life was built around the ranch. He had gone to the dance, but he hadn't participated. He had gone merely to make sure that she didn't get involved with any other man. Did anything exist for him except that ranch?

Suddenly a wave of resentment washed over her. The ranch! Always the ranch! She would be better off if she
did
sell it. She might lose Rule, but at least then she would know one way or the other how he felt about her. She realized bitterly that she was far more jealous of the ranch than she had ever been of any woman. Ricky's attempts to attract Rule's attentions had been infuriating, but rather pitiable, because Cathryn had known that her stepsister had no chance of succeeding. Ricky didn't have what it took; she didn't have the ranch.

If she had any guts at all she'd ask Rule right out what he wanted from her. That was the hard part of loving someone, she thought bitterly; it left you so insecure and vulnerable. Love turned sane people into maniacs, bravery into cowardice, morals into quivering need.

When Glenn stood and stretched, yawning, Cathryn realized with a start that the ball game was over, and she had to look quickly at the scoreboard to figure out who had won. The Astros had, but only by one run. It had been a low-scoring game, a duel of pitchers rather than hitters.

“Let's stop for some coffee before we start back,” Glenn suggested. “I only had one beer, but I'd like to feel a little more alert before I get in a plane and start flying.”

At least
he
was still sane, thought Cathryn. Aloud she agreed that coffee sounded like a good idea and they spent a leisurely hour in the coffee shop at the airport. She was aware of the minutes ticking by, aware that if Rule was still awake he would be shaking with fury by now. The thought made her both eager and loath to return, wanting to put it off for as long as possible.

When they were strapped into their seats in the plane, it seemed that she would get her wish. Glenn abruptly killed the engine. “Fuel pressure isn't coming up,” he muttered, crawling out of his seat.

The fuel pump had gone bad. The time it took to obtain and install a new one made it past midnight before they were finally in the air. Rather than wake everyone at the ranch by landing, Glenn took the plane back to its hangar and drove her home. After he had kissed her casually on the cheek and left her at the door, she took off her shoes like a kid sneaking in late from a date and tiptoed through the dark house, avoiding the places in the old floor that she knew would creak.

As she tiptoed past Rule's door she noticed the thin line of light beneath it and hesitated. He couldn't reach the lamp to turn it off. If everyone had gone to bed without turning the lamp off for him it would burn all night. Not that there was much left of the night, she thought in wry amusement. Why not just admit that she wanted to look at him? It had been roughly thirty-six hours since she had seen him, and suddenly that was far too long. Like any drug addict, she needed her fix.

Moving slowly, cautiously, she opened his door and peeped in. At least he was lying down, so someone had remembered to help him from his propped-up position. His eyes were closed and his broad, heavily muscled chest rose and fell evenly.

A hot little quiver ran through her and rattled her composure. God, he looked so good! His silky dark hair was tousled, his jaw darkened with stubble; one powerful arm was thrown up beside his head, his long-fingered hand relaxed. Her gaze wandered down the sheen of his bronzed shoulders, stopped at the virile growth of dark hair that covered his chest and ran down his abdomen, then fought free to linger on the naked expanse of muscled thigh that was visible. He had the sheet pulled up to just below his navel, but his left leg was completely uncovered, the heavy cast propped on the pile of pillows for support.

Trembling in appreciation of his male beauty, she walked silently to the bed and leaned down to feel for the switch on the lamp. She made no noise at all, she was certain of it, yet abruptly his right arm snapped out and his fingers clamped around her wrist. His dark eyes flared open and he stared at her for several seconds before the feral gleam in the dark depths faded. “Cat,” he muttered.

He had been sound asleep. She would have sworn to it. But his instincts were still honed to battle pitch, aware of any change in his surroundings, any other presence, and his body had acted even before he was awake. She watched him as the jungle faded from his mind and he recalled his present location. His look of hard savagery changed to one of narrow-eyed anger. The pressure of his fingers lessened, but not enough to allow her to pull away. Instead he drew her to him, bending her over the bed in an awkward position, holding her by the strength of his arm.

“I told you to stay away from Glenn Lacey,” he snarled softly, holding her so closely that his breath heated her cheek.

Who had told him? she wondered bleakly. Anyone could have. The entire ranch must have seen Glenn arrive to pick her up. “I'd forgotten that I'd made a date with him,” she confessed, keeping her voice low. “When he called, he already had tickets to the ball game in Houston and I just couldn't turn him down after he'd gone to so much trouble. He's a nice man.”

“I don't care if he's the next American saint,” Rule replied, still in the same tone of soft, silky menace. “I told you that I won't have you going out with other men and I meant it.”

“It was just this once, and besides, you don't own me!”

“You think so? You're mine, and I'll do whatever it takes to keep you.”

She gave him a guarded, painful look. “Would you?” she murmured, afraid that she knew all too well what his reaction would be if she sold the ranch. He would hate her. He'd drop her so fast that she'd never recover from the devastation of it.

“Push me and find out,” he invited. “That's what you've been doing anyway. Pushing me, trying to find the limits of the invisible chain that's around your pretty little neck. Well, honey, you've reached it!”

The pressure on her arm resumed and he pulled her closer. Cathryn braced her left arm on the bed and tried to pull away, but even flat on his back he was still far stronger than she was. She gave a soft cry as her arm gave way and she sprawled across him, trying frantically to keep from jarring him or knocking against his broken leg.

He released her arm and thrust his hand into her hair, tangling his fingers in the long silky length of it and forcing her head down. “Rule! Stop it!” she wailed, an instant before his mouth clung to hers.

She tried to refuse his kiss, tried to keep her teeth clenched and her lips firmly together. She failed in both. Without hurting her, he caught her jaw and applied just enough pressure to open her mouth to him, and his tongue moved past the barrier of her teeth, licking little fires into life everywhere it touched. Dazed, she felt the strength leave her body and she sank limply against him.

He kissed her so long and so hard that she knew her lips would be swollen and bruised the next day, but at the time all she was aware of was the intoxicating taste of him, the sensual thrust of his tongue, the stinging little bites that he used as both punishment and reward, stringing them from her mouth down her throat and over her sensitive collarbone to the soft curve of her shoulder. It was only then that she realized he had unbuttoned the front of her dress and pulled it open, and she moaned in her throat. “Rule...stop it! You can't....”

Carefully he let his head fall back on the pillow but he didn't release her. His hand shoved under the cup of her bra and he nestled her breast in his hot palm. “No, I can't, but you can,” he murmured.

“No...your head...your leg,” she protested incoherently, closing her eyes against the heated delight that coursed through her veins as he continued to fondle her.

“My head and my leg aren't bothering me right now.” He pulled her closer and began kissing her again, insisting on the response that he knew she was capable of. The thrusting depth of his kisses made her head spin, and she sank against him once more.

He tugged at the straps of the bra until they came free; then he reached behind her and deftly unsnapped the back strap, freeing her breasts completely. Cathryn whispered a choked, “Please,” not even knowing herself if she was begging him to stop or continue. She shuddered wildly when his hand swept up under her skirt and caressed her with bold aggression, and though she kept mindlessly whispering her mingled protests and pleas, she was clinging to him with all the strength in her arms.

He groaned harshly and tugged her leg over his hips, pulling her into position. Sudden tears dampened her cheeks, though she hadn't been aware that she was crying. “I don't want to hurt you,” she sobbed.

“You won't,” he crooned. “Please, honey, make love to me. I need you so much! Can't you feel how I ache for you?”

At some point during those bold, intimate caresses he had removed her panties, impatiently tossing away the silken barrier that kept him from the secrets of her body. His hands guided her slowly, easing her down until they were fully joined.

It was so sweet and wild that she almost cried out, stifling the sound in her throat at the last moment. With every fiber of her body she was aware of the particular sexiness of a man who lay back and let a woman enjoy his body, let her set the tempo of their loving. It was all the more enticing because Rule was so compellingly masculine, his power undiminished by his injuries. She loved him, loved him with her heart and soul and the undulating magic of her body. With exquisite tenderness she took what he offered and returned it to him tenfold, presenting him with the gift of her soaring pleasure and returning to earth to savor his writhing response as he too was pleasured.

She was lying on his chest in drowsy completion, her half-closed eyes moving idly over the room, when she saw the open door and stiffened. “Rule,” she moaned in mortification. “I didn't close the door!”

“Then close it now,” he instructed softly. “From the inside. I'm not finished with you, honey.”

“You need to sleep....”

“It's almost dawn,” he pointed out. “We seem to do all our loving in the early morning hours. And I've done nothing but sleep for a week. We need to talk, and now's as good a time as any.”

That was true, and she was loath to leave him anyway. She eased out of the bed, careful not to jostle him any more than she already had, and closed the door, locking it for good measure. It would be just like Ricky to come bursting in in the morning, knowing that Cathryn was with him. Then she slipped out of her dress, poor covering that it was, considering that he had dropped the top of it to her waist and lifted the skirt to the same level. Naked, she climbed under the sheet with him and pressed against his side, almost drunk with the pleasure of lying beside him once more. She nuzzled her face into the hollow of his shoulder and inhaled the heady male scent of him. She was so relaxed, so replete...

BOOK: Against the Rules
6.84Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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